Natasha’s Fight and the War on Women
There is a battle unfolding in the Senate, but this is not just about one woman—it is about all of us. It is about the entrenched system that thrives on silencing women, reminding them of their “place,” and punishing those who dare to challenge the status quo.
The question is: will we, as Nigerian women, stand by and watch? In the past weeks, Senator Natasha Akpoti-Uduaghan, representing Kogi Central, found herself in the eye of a storm.
She had grievances—grievances against the Senate leadership, against the treatment meted out to her, and against the culture of intimidation that she believes exists in that hallowed chamber.
When she refused to move to a new seat, seeing it as a deliberate act of disrespect, she was ignored. When she spoke out, she was dismissed. And when she raised allegations of sexual harassment against the Senate President, the reaction was not to investigate, but to crush her into submission.
It is not new for tempers to flare in the National Assembly. We have seen heated debates, walkouts, and even fistfights. But what we are witnessing now is not politics as usual.
It is a war—a war to remind Nigerian women that no matter how high they rise, they must still bow. The silence of many influential women in politics and governance is a painful reminder of how easily power can distance individuals from collective struggles.
Too often, women who break barriers become gatekeepers instead of allies, choosing self-preservation over solidarity. But history shows that oppression thrives when those who should resist remain indifferent.
Today, it is Natasha. Tomorrow, it could be any woman who dares to question authority. If anyone should have understood the weight of Natasha’s battle, it was her fellow women in the Senate. But to our disappointment, they did not stand by her.
Senator Ireti Kingibe, former Senators Abiodun Olujimi, and Senator Florence Ita-Giwa—women who have fought their own political battles—did not lend her their voices. Even if they believed she had misstepped in terms of parliamentary procedure, was she not still entitled to fairness?
Was her right to be heard not more important than protocol? Instead, we watched as Florence Ita-Giwa made the shocking claim that female Senators cannot be harassed.
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This, in a country where Senator Dino Melaye once threatened to assault and impregnate Senator Oluremi Tinubu right on the Senate floor! A country where women in leadership have been subjected to humiliation, insults, and outright violence.
To be a woman in Nigerian politics is tonwalk on eggshells, knowing that one wrong step could mean the end. It is to learn how to survive, to pick battles carefully, and to avoid provoking the wrath of those who hold power.
But survival is not always victory. There are moments when silence is betrayal. Nigerian women must recognize that this fight extends beyond the Senate chambers.
It is the same battle being waged in workplaces where competent women are undermined, in homes where their voices are stifled, and in political spaces where they are often treated as mere placeholders.
If we fail to resist the institutional silencing of women now, we embolden those who believe that women should be seen but not heard. To those who think this is just about Natasha Akpoti-Uduaghan, think again.
This is about every woman in leadership who has been talked over, dismissed, belittled, or bullied. This is about the countless women who have been discredited, not because they lacked competence, but because they refused to be submissive.
When Senator Peter Nwebonyi, the Deputy Chief Whip, went on television to make false and personal remarks about Natasha’s private life, it was clear what the game plan was. Discredit the woman, shame her, make her an example to others.
The message was simple: if you refuse to conform, you will be dragged, humiliated, and erased. And then, as though the Senate had been waiting for an excuse, they moved to suspend her for six months—a punishment designed to humiliate, to remind her that power belongs to the “Landlords” and that the “Tenants” must know their place.
This is the moment to draw the line. Women across Nigeria must demand accountability from the Senate, ensuring that Natasha’s ordeal does not set a dangerous precedent.
We must amplify her voice, challenge the injustice she faces, and refuse to accept the narrative that this is simply “politics.” It is not. It is about dignity, respect, and the right to exist without fear of systemic retribution.
The Senate’s actions on March 6, 2025, were not just an attack on Natasha Akpoti-Uduaghan; they were an attack on every Nigerian woman who dares to dream beyond the limits imposed on her.
We do not all have to like Natasha. We do not all have to agree with her style of politics. But we must defend her right to be heard, to be respected, and to seek justice. Because if they can do this to her—a Senator of the Federal Republic of Nigeria—what chance do ordinary women have?
By PRNigeria
